Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Little Shoes

My mother in law brought over a box of Jason's baby stuff last week. The box contains various baby clothes, some toys, papers and artwork from Jason's early years. I pulled out a little writing sample from 1987 and read it aloud. "If I were President I would fight for democracy and lower taxes, utility bills, and lower tolls on turnpikes."

"I didn't write that." Jason replied.

"You must have. It says your name at the bottom."

Jason just snarled at me.

That's totally like Jason to be concerned about the utility bill. I have no doubt that he wrote it.

Jason wasn't interested in the box at all. I am captivated by its contents. Despite the fact that Jason and I have been together for almost eight years, share two children, two dogs, a house, a bank account, various livestock, and a toilet, he is still an enigma to me. I was hoping that the box would contain a magic decoder ring of sorts that would make me fully understand this man whose life I chose to share. I have had no great revelations from the pile of papers and clothes. I have only been reminded that there is so much that I don't know. I am curious about the twenty one and a half years he lived before he met me. (Some days I am truly curious how he survived that long without me cooking for him and doing his laundry.)

Just when I think I have Jason figured out, he has to throw me a loop. He orders cherry vanilla Dr. peppers from the drive-thru convenience store for months, then WHAM! He has switched to cherry cokes. He IS a mystery.

I am slowly putting together the puzzle that is my husband. Here are a few pieces that came to me via the box:

Twenty some years ago he was a little boy in blue tennis shoes, dragging around his Grover. (Grover was included in the box too. Grover has had a rough life.)

He has always been a skinflint, hence the early concern about utility bills.

He did know his times tables at one point. I found a test proving so. (Why is he always asking me to multiply random numbers off of the top of my head. "What's 43 times 6?")

He has always been a good artist. No, really. He downplays his artistic abilities, but he is still pretty good.

He was a darn good colorer.

While I'm on the topic of baby stuff.......What is up with those horrid stiff, white shoes that we all had as babies? (one that belonged to Jason is in the picture) My mother in law talked about how her babies "walked like Frankenstein" in them. What idiot of a child development expert decided it would be easiest to first walk without the ability to move one's ankle?

About Me

I have three sons, who are stacked like pancakes (six, five, and two). I live in an old farmhouse between a cow pasture and a wheat field. I grew up in suburbia, so rural life is a new adventure for me. Aside from my sons, I am a mommy to a bitchy rescued goat, a mounting number of barn cats, my three couch-hounds (yes, that is their official breed), a goofy mastiff named Kaiser, an old ex-hunting dog, and a three legged pit bull mutt. What else? I'm married to a guy with a bunch of old jeeps, and tattoos, who is a mechanical genius. I let my kids watch t.v., and play in the dirt. I have crooked pinkies. I love Henry Rollins, but hate his music. I'm a vegan. I have a useless English degree. I am a crappy housekeeper, but a good cook.uhhhh....that's about it.